Violent Dreams
by wormbuffet
Summary: Spock's body is found on a backwater planet by a lonely Dream Eater. Using it's telepathic gifts, it reviews Spock's memories and decides his fate...Will Spock and his friends be saved? Spock/McCoy, rating might change to mature.


_A muddy road cut into the clay of a hill. Rain beats down with unusual momentum, the force of the drops giving the hill the appearance of melting. A large, crude wagon is stopped on the road. It is full of long, soft objects wrapped in heavy brown paper growing pulpy in the rain. The driver is wrapped in a grimy, colorless cloak that appears to repel water from the sheer amount of grease on the fabric. The driver bends in conversation with a similarly garbed stranger, a pedestrian. The rain runs off their cloaks and rinses the mud from hem of the stranger. The monstrous oxen stand patiently, rain-sores opening on their broad gray backs._

* * *

><p>"A Vulcan!" declared Miri proudly, patting one of the long packages on her wagon. "And healthy, too. Fresh. I only caught him a few hours ago."<p>

"It's a male?"

"Yep." she assured me, and then, always the tradeswoman, "Are you interested in males? I have three more from the same party. All Earthers, all humans."

"I'm not really looking for humans today, sorry. Are you selling?"

"Always, Epram."

"Very well, will you unwrap the Vulcan a bit, just so I can be sure he still breathes?"

Miri laughed agreeably and put down the reins. She climbed over the rail into the back of the wagon and together we lugged the long, beige package to the top of the pile.

"You know I'd never sell you a cold one," Miri reminded me. "You're a good customer."

"And _you_ know me well enough to understand my cautiousness. I don't mean to insult you."

Miri nodded, satisfied. She had been my dealer for years, ever since I first came to this muddy planet, and our exchange was only for appearances. I knew what she was selling and she knew how much I would pay. She pushed aside the brown paper wrapping and lifted off the black cotton hood covering the Vulcan's face.

"What do you think?"

"He looks a bit yellow, Miri. Did you say a few hours ago?"

It was raining hard but I got a good look at green substance on his face and the sweat before it was rinsed away. So did Miri, who chewed her lip tensely.

"It's only a bit of leaf-slime."

I shook my head. That wasn't botanical. That was blood. I reached down and opened his mouth, examining the tongue. It was an encouraging shade of deep pink. There was more green stuff shining against his long, horse-like teeth. I guessed that he had put up a serious fight, perhaps indicating military training.

"Tell me about him," I invited, smiling encouragingly at Miri. She understood what I meant and settled on the railing.

"Well, let's see...Weight, maybe 150 pounds. Height is six feet and a half inch. Vulcan. Very fit. I found him this morning on the Road with the others. Stung by Karrock, all four of them."

"Were they soldiers?"

"I don't know. They had guns, and uniforms, but that could mean anything. They were all wearing different colors."

I tugged at wraps around his neck and shoulders and could have sworn I spotted bright blue before the rain soaked it too dark to distinguish. I smiled.

"I'll take him."

I handed Miri the appropriate amount of currency and she carefully re-wrapped my purchase. I hefted him over my shoulders and sloshed my way back home.

_ Karrock _are found only on this world. They are huge, aggressive beasts resembling massive crane flies and it is said they are impossible to kill, although I doubt anyone here has ever really tried. These creatures roam the Waste where his body was found, stinging any creature unlucky enough to cross their path and leaving the numb bodies in their wake, to be feasted on later. The natives accept the deaths of their comrades as a part of their life here and don't do anything about them. A regular patrol skirts the outside of the Waste, a place where the Karrock are known to breed, gathering the bodies of their victims. Miri is one of those citizens whose job it is to seek out and collect the paralyzed victims of the Karrock. I and some other inhabitants here have a running deal with her. We meet her on the Road to the Waste and purchase desirable bodies from her before she goes into Town. I consider it a better fate than being boiled down into glue for the paste-paper they make here, and nobody misses a few bodies every now and then.

Safe inside my burrow. I studied my prize. The package lay steaming by the hearth, pulp drying slowly into paper again, and emitting a strong, woody smell. The Vulcan inside stirred as he warmed up, his blood heating, the air inside his hood growing thick with breath. I could hear him struggle for breath.


End file.
